The First Quarter Quell
by Catnip394
Summary: I realised that the first Quarter Quell was never properly explained. So here is my fanfiction, a story of sacrifice and bravery; a story where the very last sentence changes everything.
1. Chapter 1

"Stop." I say, calmly, swinging my sword by my side. The soft glow of the evening sun is reflected on the tips of the waves, the fine grains of sand are pale and perfect. It's a beautiful evening. But I am not here to laugh.

The gang of careers turns at the sound of my voice. I can see the fear, evident in their eyes. Fear of me. Fear of what I can do.

The young girl takes this opportunity to run, whimpering with pain at her many cuts and bruises.

"Magnolia." says Kaelyn, coldly. A tall, muscular seventeen year old, Kaelyn towers over me. But I am not the one whose eyes are filled with terror.

"What's your excuse this time?" I reply, icily. He growls.

"She cheeked me." he grunts

"Oh really?" I ask, coolly. His companions nod vigorously. I snort. "Whatever she said, she was probably just being honest." I decide, with a sweet smile. Kaelyn glares at me. Unfortunately for him, looks can't kill. But my sword can.

Before he knows what's happening, I push off the sandy ground, flipping over his head and landing behind him. He gazes around himself, stupidly, and I hook my muscled arm around his neck. My sword edge finds his throat, and I smile, my breath warm on his neck.

"Next time you want a fight, Kaelyn," I whisper, "I'm ready and waiting."

And with that, I release him, striding off down the beach, my blonde curls rippling in the sea breeze. I cut a striking figure, clad in brown leather, with tanned, muscled arms and a pretty, heart-shaped face. But my brown eyes, usually so soft, are hard with anger. Because this time, Kaelyn has gone too far.

I sit with my father, my only living family, as the television flickers to life.

President Snow. Elected last month. Ready to announce the Quarter Quell.

"In honour of the first Quarter Quell," begins the young President, clearing his blood-scented throat, "The tributes shall not be picked at random in a public reaping. They shall be elected by their fellows.

And as the power is cut, and as the television flickers and dies, my blood turns icy cold. Because I know who the careers will vote for. After all those times I taunted them, stopped them from scaring young children and torturing those who resisted, who else would they vote for? What better way to get rid of me? Yes, I know who will be District 4's female tribute in these Games.

Me.


	2. Chapter 2

All too soon, I'm standing at the reaping, scribbling down two names. I survey the careers, and pick a weak-looking young boy, and write down his name. The less competition the better.

Of course, I know that the female tribute will be me. But I have to vote, so in the end I decide on Ciara, a small but cruel seventeen-year-old career. I carefully fold my slips of paper, and walk up to the stage to place them in the reaping bowl, with every one else's.

Tatiana Litloss struts up onto the stage, her fake blonde hair and orange tan the same as always. She is wearing a tight, revealing pink dress, and ridiculously high spike heels.

"The votes have been counted and verified." she announces, in her high, crisp voice. "District four's tributes are as follows: Magnolia Evans and Kaelyn Sharp."

Kaelyn. Kaelyn, is going into the Hunger Games with me. I feel my jaw drop, as I numbly make my way up to the stage. Because out of all the careers, they picked the strongest, tallest, most vicious. The one who hates me, and would do anything to see me dead. If I have a sword, I can beat him with ease. But what if I can't get to one?

I mount the stage, and we shake hands, both of us trying to crush the other's fingers.

I stare out of the train window at the blurry streaks of colour that are the districts. Soon, we will arrive in the Capitol. Soon, I will have to face the crowds. I feel faintly nauseous, my head spinning. I haven't spoken a word to Kaelyn throughout the entire train journey. But now, I need something to take my fear off my mind.

"Feeling brave, Kaelyn?" I ask, cheerfully, noticing as I do that he has turned faintly green. Interesting. I didn't think that happened in real life.

"Braver than you." He snarls. I snort. What a pathetic comeback. He's losing his edge.

"So what's your strategy? I mean, you obviously can't go for intelligent or handsome, so I assume you're going for brute strength." I tut, "Risky. I'm just a girl, and we've all seen how easy it is for me to beat you in a fight." I wink at him, as the colour rises in his cheeks.

"I'm going for the 'beat-you-to-a-pulp' strategy," he growls. I pretend to consider this.

"So... basically the same strategy as the other night?" I ask, innocently.

I realise that taunting Kaelyn will be one of my few pleasures in the next few weeks...


	3. Chapter 3

Kaelyn and I sit on the train, watching the Reapings. Brother and sister, 18 and 16, are called for District 1. A monstrous boy and a tiny girl are District 2's tributes. This angers me, because the girl cannot be over 13. The career pack won't want her. She doesn't stand a chance. But, to my admiration, she holds her head up high.

District 3 shows a pair of scrawny, pale tributes picked. The girl bursts into tears, and the boy is shaking like a leaf.

District 4 slides onto the screen. I see myself, cold and bored, stride up to the stage, staring defiantly out at the crowd. The breeze plays with my blonde hair as Kaelyn is called. The cameras zoom in on him, as he walks up to the stage. Is that... Is that wild happiness on his face?

I shoot him a curious glance, and his cheeks redden as he pretends not to notice my eyes on him. I shrug, and turn back to the television.

The only other tribute who catches my eye is a dark-haired blue-eyed girl from 10. She looks to be about 15, and her legs and arms are muscled and lean.

The truth hits me with a shock. All of these tributes must die, if I am to live.

In other words. They all must die.

Kaelyn turns to me as the train pulls into the station. For the first time, I see the blind panic in his eyes. I flash him a reassuring smile, then frown. What happened to hating one another? What happened to being enemies?

And then I realise. Only one of us came come out alive. Only one of us can reverse this journey. The odds are, neither of us will. And in this new, unknown, terrifying world, we only have each other.

Taking a deep breath, I take his hand. His eyes widen, but he doesn't pull away. He knows that this is for his benefit, and I can see the gratitude in his eyes.

We step out of the train, the bizarre capitol audience screaming. When they see our clasped hands, their screams multiply as they stretch out their hands, all hoping to touch some part of us. Us. When did "me" become "us"?

As we enter the building, I realise I have to let go of Kaelyn's hand.

I realise I don't want to.

His hand is warm and rough, comforting in mine. All too soon, he pulls it away.

"We still hate each other, right?" he asks, slowly. I nod vigorously.

"Sure."


	4. Chapter 4

_Note: There's a Finnick quote in there somewhere ;)_

I stand there, naked, as my stylist enters the room. His hair is dyed deep red, his eyes are dark, his skin is tanned. He wears silver eye-shadow, to match the swirling silver tattoos on his arms and face.

"Tomas," he introduces himself, holding out his hand. I don't take it. My arms are firmly crossed over my chest.

"Magnolia." I reply.

"District 4." He muses.

"Fishing." I complete, with a sigh.

"Magnolia," he says, slowly, "Where do the fish come from?"

And a smile spreads across my face as I whisper "The Sea."

The second part of my stylist's plan comes into action as our chariot begins to move. A light rain picks up over our chariot, beading us with tiny droplets of water. It slowly increases, drenching both me and Kaelyn.

My blonde curls are plastered to my head, my makeup smudged. My silver circlet gleams, the tiny sapphires reflecting the light. I am the Queen of the Ocean. I am imperfect. I am beautiful. I am terrible. I am unforgiving.

I notice Kaelyn's eyes on my chest, and look down. The water has plastered my torn white dress to my skin, the white material almost see-through. I blush, but I will not give him the satisfaction of crossing my arms.

"Alright there, Magnolia?" he sneers, "Sure you don't want to get dressed?"

"Why? Do you find this... distracting?" I smirk.

"At least I'm not half-naked." he snaps. I snort.

"What a snappy retort!" I marvel, "How_ do_ you think of them?"

He is saved from answering by the halt of the chariots, as President Snow welcomes us to the Games.

"And may the odds," he looks directly at me, out of snakelike eyes, "Be _ever_ in your favour."


End file.
